


Cerberus

by Rhiannon87



Category: Mass Effect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-04
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-01 03:18:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon87/pseuds/Rhiannon87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joker's time with Cerberus before Shepard comes back from the dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cerberus

_1._

“Can I see her?”

Jacob glances up from the security monitors. “For the eleventh time this week: no.”

“I am going to keep coming in here and annoying you until you say yes,” Joker replies, shifting his weight on his crutches.

“Officer Lawson made your access levels very clear,” Jacob replies. “The surgery bay is not included.”

Joker exhales sharply. “She doesn't have to know.”

“Miranda finds out everything that goes on here.”

“So what?” He limps into the office a few steps. “You let me see Shepard, Miranda finds out, we get bitched at. It's not like she's gonna fire us.”

Jacob sighs. “You don't have clearance. I'm sorry.”

“Come oonnnnnn,” Joker pleads. “I'm not asking to help with the surgical procedures, I just want to see her. She's my CO.” _It's my fault she's in here._ “And you know I'm just gonna keep harassing you until you give in.” Jacob continues typing. Joker narrows his eyes. “I'll sing at you again.”

“I'll grease the floor,” Jacob replies mildly.

Joker smirks. “Now that _will_ get Miranda pissed at you.”

The security officer sighs. “Fine.”

Joker blinks. “What?”

“I said fine. I am giving in to your demands, against all my training and common sense.” Jacob enters a few commands on his computer, then stands. “Let's go.”

He grins and maneuvers back out into the hallway. Jacob leads the way through the station, deliberately slowing his pace so Joker can keep up. They reach a secured elevator; Jacob enters a code, and the door chimes as it unlocks. Another set of codes, and the elevator descends quickly. “D'you know how the new ship they're building for us is going?” Joker asks.

Jacob shoots him a sidelong look. “Don't push your luck.”

“Can you at least tell me what class of ship we're talking about here?”

“Somewhere between an interceptor and a dreadnought.”

Joker rolls his eyes. The elevator door slides open, and Jacob makes a hard right. The air has a faint antiseptic smell to it, one that reminds Joker of his childhood. There's clearly more than one med bay on the station; he's been in and out of the one used by the rest of the crew. He's never been here before.

Jacob leads him to the one door in an otherwise empty hallway. He opens up his omni-tool and types for a few seconds. “Giving you temporary clearance,” he says, glancing at Joker. “You owe me for this.”

Joker cocks his head to the side and manages a salute. “Got it.”

The door slides open, revealing an observation room. Jacob nods at the window. Joker limps over, slowly, suddenly a little reluctant. The surgery bay is very bright, and very white. He glances around the room, instinctively avoiding looking at the figure on the table directly below him until he can't avoid it any more.

There's a sheet up to her shoulders, which he's weirdly glad for; seeing her like this is bad enough without adding that extra layer of vulnerability to it. Tubes and wires stretch from her arms, chest, and head to a variety of machines. Her auburn hair is short, shorter than it should be, only about an inch or two long. She looks gaunt, almost skeletal, her skin still far paler than it was. There are some open cuts on her face and shoulders still, revealing flashes of metal.

“What'd they do to her?” Joker asks, vaguely gesturing at his own face.

Jacob steps up beside him. “Medical implants to help repair damaged tissue or missing bone fragments. She was on ice for about two months before we got her. We had to do a lot of rebuilding.”

“Yeah.” He stares down at her, wondering how the hell she'll ever be back to normal. “When is she supposed to be able to wake up?”

“Well, technically, we could wake her up now,” Jacob replies. “Everything's in place and functional. But we want the transition to be as smooth as possible for her, so we're working on reconstructing muscle and body mass first. Ideally, in a few months, she'll be just the way she was when the Normandy crashed.”

“She was attacked.” Jacob shoots him a puzzled look. “The Normandy. She didn't crash. She was attacked. I didn't crash her.”

Jacob looks away and nods. “Right.”

A speaker clicks on behind them. “Jacob? What the hell are you doing? We're supposed to be meeting with Wilson!”

“I'll be right there, Miranda,” Jacob replies. He glances at Joker. “You're taking the heat on this one.”

Joker shrugs. “Better start heading back. Gonna take you twice as long if you wait for me.”

“And I'm gonna have to wait for you because you don't have the clearance codes to get back out,” Jacob says, turning back towards the door. “I'm not gonna let you wander around down here alone.”

Joker smirks and moves back towards the hall. “Worth a shot.”

 

_2._

It's not even a regular clinic and he still has to sit and wait for the doctor to see him. Joker glares at the door. He's perched on the examination table, legs dangling over the side, crutches leaning against the wall next to him. Part of the signing bonus with Cerberus included experimental gene therapy that was supposed to help with the Vrolik's. So far, all it meant was bi-weekly visits to the med bay. They'd done their latest round of x-rays, and now he just had to wait for the doctor to come back and frown and tell him there wasn't quite enough improvement for him to try getting around without the crutches and braces yet.

The door slides open. Joker glances over and does a double take. “Doctor Chakwas?!”

She smiles brightly at him and walks over. “Jeff, it's so _good_ to see you again,” she says, standing on tiptoe to give him a hug.

He returns the embrace. “I didn't think I'd see you until Shepard woke up,” he says as she steps back.

Chakwas shrugs. “There really wasn't much keeping me on Mars. And I didn't care much for being planetside. I'd prefer a starship, but a space station will do, for now.”

Joker grins. “They're building us a ship.”

“Yes, I heard. They seem to be quite secretive on the details, though.” Chakwas looks down at her datapad and starts scrolling through x-ray images.

“They're secretive on pretty much everything,” he replies. He nods at the datapad. “Let me guess. Improved, but not enough. Try again in four days.”

“It's hard to tell, actually,” she replies distractedly. “I'll need to do some comparisons...” Chakwas walks to the desk in the room and sits down. She turns on the computer and starts typing, pulling up a few screens of data and older x-rays.

Joker sighs and swings his legs back and forth slightly. “Walking's a lot less painful now,” he comments. “I can stay upright for longer.”

Chakwas nods. “Well, there's definite improvement in collagen production,” she says. “Still not at normal levels, obviously. I'm not entirely sure if what they're doing could get it up to normal-- cure you, in other words.” She pulls up a chart on her screen. “But it is certainly helping.”

“So... walking, yes or no.”

The doctor sighs. “I'm inclined to tell you to try it,” she says after a pause. “If you're not able to do it, you'll know before anything breaks, the bone quality has improved enough for that.” Chakwas looks up at Joker and smiles slightly. “They're very careful here, to the point of being overly cautious. They've been coddling you a bit, I think.”

Joker looks down at the floor and sighs. The last time he tried walking without help was years ago. He'd been... eleven? Maybe twelve. One of his sister's classmates had stolen his crutches. Amber had been trying to get the kid to give them back, and he'd just gotten tired of having to sit and wait for someone else to fix things for him. He'd made it about five steps before he'd tripped-- not even on anything, he was just so used to the crutches that he could barely walk without them. Shattered both his kneecaps, missed the first two weeks of the school year.

He eases himself to the ground, keeping most of his weight against the table. Thirty years of experience with the agony of broken bones made him extremely cautious about anything new like this. He slowly shifts the balance from the table to his feet, keeping both hands on the table, ready to pull himself back up if necessary. It's painful, but not too bad. More like stretching underused muscles than overstressed bones about to fracture.

“Here goes,” Joker mutters, and takes his hands off the table. Nothing happens. Holding himself up straight takes a little effort, but he's _standing._ No crutches, no leg braces, no one carrying him. He can't help the grin that spreads across his face.

He looks over at Chakwas, who smiles back and stands, walking over to him. “How're you feeling?”

“Not bad,” he replies. The pain's about comparable to what he normally feels when moving around. There's another exam table about four feet away; it's a good a target as any. And it'll be something to grab onto if he trips. Joker exhales heavily, shoving a lifetime's worth of fear to the back of his head, and takes a step forward.

It hurts, more than just standing, and it's more like limping than normal walking, but... he makes it across the four feet without falling, without breaking. There's part of him that feels really stupid, for being so happy about something as basic as walking, but he's almost thirty years old and he's never really been able to do this before. He turns back to Chakwas, who's beaming at him. “Are you still feeling okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says, grinning back.

She nods. “You'll need to transition away from your crutches gradually. Overexerting yourself--”

“I know, I know,” he cuts in, nodding. “Don't ruin the moment with reality.”

Chakwas laughs and shakes her head. “You probably know what to expect, anyway.”

He does. There'll be exercise and physical therapy, the annoyingly slow switch from crutches and braces to walking normally, days when he'll push himself too hard and fracture something. But he's a little less dependent now. He can walk without relying on something or someone. Not well, and not for very long, but it's something. “I wish Shepard was here,” he says abruptly, looking down.

The doctor sighs and walks over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “She will be,” Chakwas says. “It'll be good to have the three of us together again.”

Joker nods. The rest of the old crew's gone, either reassigned or discharged, and he assumes that the ship they're building will have a Cerberus crew. They're the only ones from the Normandy. They need to stick together. “Think I'm okay to walk back to my quarters?” he asks.

Chakwas sighs, thinking, then nods slowly. “Be careful,” she says. “And take your crutches with you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, just in case.” He limps back over and picks them up, awkwardly tucking them under one arm.

“Jeff?” Chakwas asks. “Have you seen her?”

“Once. A couple weeks ago.” He shrugs. He doesn't really know how to describe Shepard's condition, other than 'barely alive'. “You're a doctor, it might be easier for you to convince Miranda to let you see her. Tell her you need more information if you're gonna be the CMO.”

“I'll give it a try,” Chakwas says. “I'll see you at dinner?”

Joker grins. “Yeah.” He waves, then walks to the door.

 

_3._

“Straight beats two pair, flyboy,” Gabby says with a grin. “I win!”

Joker shrugs, handing his cards over to Ken. “You win this hand. I'll make a comeback.”

Ken shakes his head as he shuffles the deck. “Gabby's vicious,” he says. “Looks all wide-eyed and innocent. She's a bloody shark, I tell ya.”

For a second, Joker considers mentioning that Shepard's a far more vicious card player than either of them, but he keeps his mouth shut. She'd be pissed if she found out he'd ruined her fun. “I'll end up winning my money back eventually,” he comments. “Not like there's much else to do.”

“No kidding.” Gabby looks around the mess hall of Minuteman Station and sighs. “How much longer are we gonna be here, anyway?”

“Last I heard, Shepard wasn't gonna be up for three or four weeks,” Joker says.

Ken groans as he starts to deal. “I don't know if I can do another month of this.”

Joker nods, glancing around the nearly-empty room. There's another member of the new crew sitting at a table alone, reading a datapad, and Cerberus guards at both doors. Security's far tighter here than at the previous station. The crew's access is limited to their quarters, the mess hall, and the med bay. After two weeks, plenty of people are getting stir crazy.

“I heard this was actually the station the big boss man is at,” Ken says, setting the deck aside.

Joker picks up his cards. “I don't think so,” he says. “He's on a station orbiting really close to a star.”

Gabby raises her eyebrows. “You've met him?”

“Oh yeah, we're best friends,” Joker responds dryly, rearranging the cards in his hand. “Did you know he invented the paper clip?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Fine, be that way,” she says with a smirk. “I'll get my revenge. What're we betting?”

“Twenty-five to start,” Ken replies. He glances at Joker. “So... you served with Commander Shepard before. What's she like?”

Joker stares at the table for a moment, thinking. “She's the best fucking commanding officer you'll ever have,” he finally replies. “Twenty-five?”

Ken nods. “Okay, yeah, but-- what's she like?”

He grins and shakes his head. Crews always gossip about their new CO, trying to gauge how good or bad a posting's going to be, but with Shepard... It's something of a challenge. “She's pretty laid back, doesn't really care about rank all that much,” he says as Gabby places her bet. “She likes to get to know her crew.”

“Ugh, like the kind that wants to be everyone's friend?” Gabby asks.

“Yeah, but not in that creepy dependent way where they _need_ you to like them, and they're constantly hanging around the bridge hovering and asking questions, and eventually you just snap and...” Joker trails off. “She's not like that.”

Ken smirks. “Ah, the voice of experience,” he says. “New cards?”

Joker slides him two of his cards; Gabby trades in one. Ken switches out three and makes a face. “Eh, fuck it, I fold,” he says, tossing his cards on the table.

“At least we know you're not cheating,” Gabby says sweetly, smiling innocently at Joker. “Your bet.”

He's got a pretty terrible hand-- one pair and no face cards. Still, it's not like he has much else to waste his Cerberus salary on. “One fifty,” he says calmly.

Gabby's eyes widen, and Ken whistles under his breath. “I'm guessin' you don't mean a dollar fifty,” he says, shaking his head.

Joker just blinks at him innocently. Gabby looks back and forth between her cards and Joker, then grins. “I'll see that,” she says. “Now let's see what you've got.”

He sighs and sets his cards down face-up. Gabby looks at them and fairly cackles in glee. “Three of a kind!” she says, setting down her own hand. “I win again!”

“I warned ya,” Ken says, pushing the cards in Joker's direction. Joker gathers up the cards and starts shuffling. He'll have to warn Shepard about this one.

 

_4._

“Mr. Moreau, please report to deck ten,” the station VI requests politely.

Joker glances over at the intercom and sighs. “Sure,” he says, certain that no one's listening. The station's been on high alert for the past two days, ever since the research station was attacked. No one would tell them if Shepard had made it out alive, at least not until he and Chakwas had cornered Officer Wolfgram and threatened her with bodily harm if she didn't tell them. Or rather, Chakwas had made a heartfelt plea, and Joker threatened to beat her with his crutches. The woman had finally told them that Shepard, Lawson, and Taylor had all made it out alive, and would be arriving on Minuteman sometime soon.

He rolls out of bed and starts looking for his shirt and boots. It's nighttime, technically, and most of the crew is restricted to their quarters. Deck ten is the hangar bay, if he's remembering the layout of the station correctly. Maybe Shepard's arrived already? He leaves his quarters, trying to keep from getting his hopes up too high. The guard posted by the elevator lets him pass without comment; he hits the button for deck ten and shoves his hands in his pockets as it descends.

The doors slide open, revealing a sprawling grid of catwalks. Wolfgram's leaning against the railing, drumming her fingers on her arms. “There you are,” she says. “Come on.”

Joker limps towards her. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he sneers. “Why'd you drag me out of bed in the middle of the night?”

Wolfgram glances over her shoulder as she walks towards a line of windows. “I figured you'd want to see this,” she replies simply.

He walks to the windows and looks down into a large hangar. Floodlights illuminate a ship, one he recognizes immediately. “You—you rebuilt her,” he breathes, putting one hand to the glass. “You guys rebuilt my baby!”

“Shepard needs the best,” Wolfgram says, clearly smiling. “The best crew, best pilot... and the best ship.”

It's not the same, obviously-- much bigger, for one, easily double the size of the SR-1. But she'll probably handle about the same, he guesses, looking over the lines of the ship. “Does she have the stealth system installed?” he asks.

“The SR-2 is based on the designs of the original Normandy,” she replies. “The propulsion and stealth systems have been upgraded slightly to account for new technological advances, but otherwise, they are the same.”

Lazarus Project, indeed. They're bringing everything back to life. “I can't wait until Shepard sees this,” he says, beaming.

Wolfgram steps up beside him. “She should be returning to Minuteman Station in approximately twelve hours,” she says.

Joker looks over at her. “Returning?”

The Cerberus operative frowns, as though realizing she just let classified information slip. “Ah-- yes. She and the others were on the station recently. The Illusive Man sent them to investigate something.”

He shakes his head. “And here I was, about to apologize for threatening to break my crutches over your head,” he comments. “Twelve hours?”

“Yes. She'll need to debrief the Illusive Man on her mission, and then we planned to show her the SR-2.”

Joker looks back at the ship. “Can I tell her?” he asks. He wants to see the look on her face when she sees the ship. Hell, he just wants to see her again, up and around and not comatose.

“I'll speak with the Illusive Man. If we can arrange anything, I'll let you know.” Wolfgram gestures back at the elevator. “You should return to your quarters.”

He gazes down at the ship for a few moments. “This isn't some kind of sick, twisted psych experiment, right?” he asks. “She'll be here when I come back?”

“The SR-2 isn't moving until you tell her to, Mr. Moreau,” Wolfgram replies.

Joker nods, smiling. “Good.”


End file.
